


Don't be shy, Watson

by orphan_account



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Cuddling, M/M, Sherlock gets hurt, Unspoken relationship, brief mention of sex, injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 16:54:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24070159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Sherlock appointed John as his emergency contact
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 6
Kudos: 104





	Don't be shy, Watson

“Hello? Is this John Watson?” A clear voice spoke after he answered his phone. He had just finished with his past patient with another one supposed to arrive in five minutes. 

“Yes, this is him. Who is this?” John asked, leaning back in his chair. 

“This is Jackie from Saint Thomas’s hospital. You are listed as Sherlock Holmes’s first emergency contact and he is here because, as he says, an experiment gone wrong.” John groaned, putting his head in his hand. Jesus Christ. Wait. 

“First emergency contact? Nevermind. I’ll be there.” John stood up, grabbing his keys. “Thank you so much, I-” He accidentally hung up, shaking his head. “Hey, Sarah? I need to leave early, Sherlock is at Saint Thomas’s hospital, I have to go.” He stumbled, running his hand through his hair. Sarah eyed him, before nodding. He thanked her, before rushing out the door and waving down a taxi. 

First emergency contact? Mycroft, his bloody brother, was a government official. He was wayyyy more qualified to be called than John ever would be. 

Arriving at the hospital, he paid the taxi and hopped out, making a beeline for the front desk. “I’m here for Sherlock Holmes?” 

“Yes, your name?” The lady, whose name tag told him she was not Jackie from the phone call. 

“John Watson, I was called as his emergency contact.” John answered, steading himself. He wouldn’t dare tell Sherlock, but he was worried. 

“Relationship?” 

Now that was a big question to unpack. 

Because at the surface, they are flatmates. Brought together by mutual friends. But it’s so much deeper than that. The side eyed glances, the closer than heterosexual stances, hands brushing against hands and waist. And the more obvious give-away, they were.. for lack of better words… affectionate while drunk. 

They shagged after a night of drinking. John didn’t actually remember until they woke up… 

The sunlight filtering through the curtains shined into his eyes, which should have been the first hint something was not normal. He shifted to his side, but long arms tightened around his waist. John froze, opening his eyes.

“Shit,” he mumbled, leaning his head back. Sherlock stirred next to him, his curls tickling John’s neck. Sherlock was still fast asleep, and… naked. 

Thankfully, John had boxers on, he must have relocated them last night. He reached for his phone, before realizing it was still in his pant’s pocket. And his army was trapped under Sherlock. He was in this too deep. He couldn’t ignore it forever, but he could just close his eyes and ignore it for a few more minutes. 

“Stop pretending to be asleep.” Sherlock’s low, baritone voice rumbled against his chest. 

“Can’t get anything past you.” John groaned. Sherlock chuckled, but not moving. They laid there for a while. Finally, John spoke again. “Do you want to talk about this? I mean, I…” He trailed off.

“Not really.” He said simply, rolling away. John sat up, rubbing his eyes. 

“I don’t remember anything, Sherlock. You probably do.” 

“I do, however, you not knowing will save your sanity.” Sherlock said, surprisingly calm. He tossed John his shirt, who mumbled thanks.

“It’s.. I.. flatmate.” John finally answered. The receptionist eyed him, his mouth pressed into a thin line. 

“203. Second door to the left on the second floor. The doctor noted he is angry that he is here.” She smiled. John nodded curtly.

“Of course he is, thank you so much.”

\-----

He pushed the door open, Sherlock opening his eyes to see who it was. “John, you came.” 

“Of course I did, you git. What happened?” John asked, observing Sherlock. There were burns on his arms and left cheek, they seemed to be chemical burns. He walked to his bedside, reaching out to touch the burns lightly. The nurse cleared her throat, making John pull back. 

“I used the wrong chemical while testing how different brands of lighter fluid affect the skin,” Sherlock explained, wincing slightly at whatever the nurse was doing. “John, you’re a doctor. Tell me I’ll be okay.”

“You are in good hands, you need to be more careful,” He murmured, nodding to the nurse. He reached to brush a curl out of Sherlock’s eyes. “Can’t have the great Sherlock Holmes blowing his brains out because of a failed experiment.”

“It was an accident, John. And My brain is obviously still in my head, so I don’t see the problem.” 

“The problem is that you are so reckless, Sherlock. I was so worried! I could only get here so fast- what if something worse happened? You will be more careful!” He patronized, only stopping because the nurse gathered up her stuff and dismissed herself. 

“I- Sorry. I didn’t realize- wait wait back up. You were worried?” Sherlock asked, his mouth turning up in a smirk. “Aw, you care. So sweet.” He joked, receiving a glare from John. 

“Yes! Of course I do, don’t act like you are surprised.” John scoffed, reaching across Sherlock to set down his phone and keys on the table. Sherlock hummed, his eyes following John’s movements. “How long are they keeping you?”

“Overnight. Just to be safe.” John nodded, turning to find the chairs. There was one, uncomfortable looking chair in the room. He pulled it over, sitting down in it. “John, you can go home. I don’t mind.”

“I’m staying the night. I can sleep in this chair.” John insisted. Sherlock rolled his eyes, shifting over in his bed. John narrowed his eyes. 

“Get over here. You are not sleeping in a chair. You’ll complain about your back for a week.” He pointed out. John was still hesitant. 

“I can’t… you know, you need to rest.” John stammered. Sherlock tilted his head, making intense eye contact. 

“Stop acting shy, Watson. Your dick was in my arse three weeks ago. Get over here.” He insisted. John chuckled, shaking his head. 

“Thought we weren’t talking about it.” 

“You stare at my arse every time I walk in front of you. You don’t have to if you don’t want to. But I know you do.” John ran his hand through his hair, before pushing himself out of the chair. 

“And you say I’m stubborn, clearly haven’t met yourself,” John muttered, but had a grin on his face. He settled next to Sherlock, wrapping his arms around his shoulder and pulling him against him. He made note of the burns on Sherlock, resting his hand in Sherlock’s hair. "Mycroft isn't your emergency contact."

"I'd rather have you here." He mumbled, making a mental note at how natural it was for John but didn’t mention it. He pressed himself against the doctor's chest, closing his eyes. 

The nurse from earlier opened the door to check on them but left when she saw the two fast asleep in each other's arms.

**Author's Note:**

> wrote this while watching brooklynn nine nine


End file.
